Jennifer L. Armentrout - The Problem With Forever

Months shy of turning eighteen, and I didn’t know what it felt like to be kissed or what it was like to be...to be wanted—to be loved in that kind of way.

Was I lacking in something?

I glanced down at myself and wiggled my toes as I narrowed my eyes. Sturdy. My body shape was sturdy, but Rider had said I was beautiful. Without any warning, an image of him formed in my thoughts. Brown eyes with golden flecks, broad cheekbones and incredible lips—lips I bet gave really great kisses.

Oh my God.

I could not, should not, be thinking that.

Shaking those thoughts out of my mind, I opened my eyes. What I was lacking wasn’t thinner thighs or a flatter stomach. It was courage. The fact was, I was a giant scaredy-cat. How could I be thinking about a guy’s lips when I couldn’t even get mine to work to form words?

My gaze drifted back to the soap. I guessed soap carving was a hobby, but it was a silent one and it required no words to complete, no thoughts. How appropriate. I didn’t have to put myself out there. Not like Keira did with the cheerleading. Shopping really wasn’t a hobby and writing didn’t involve getting out there, but Ainsley was outspoken, friendly and talkative. She didn’t just step out of the box, she played happily outside it. Me? I carved soap. Maybe I should’ve—

From my nightstand, my cell phone dinged. Figuring it was Ainsley since I wasn’t online, I headed over to pick it up.

It was not Ainsley.

R u home?

It was from Rider.

My breath caught.

Another text came through before I could get my brain to respond.

Alone?

My eyes felt as big as planets as I stared at my cell. This time I was not going to be crippled by indecision. I sent back a quick yes.

A couple of seconds passed. A minute turned into five, and I began to wonder if I was totally imagining things, but then a new text appeared and my heart stopped.

Two words.

I’m outside.

Chapter 8 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Epilogue Acknowledgments Copyright

Holy crap.

For a second I was completely frozen as I stared at the text. He was outside? No, he couldn’t mean he was actually outside the—

The doorbell rang, echoing from downstairs, and I whirled around, my lungs expanding rapidly.

Holy crap balls.

My brain sort of clicked off as I darted out of the room and down the hall, my bare feet flying down the steps. I almost barreled right through the foyer, stopping just shy of throwing the door open.

I wasn’t stupid.

Stretching up onto the tips of my toes, I peered through the peephole as I bit down on my lip. All I could see was the back of his head and the breadth of his shoulders.

It was Rider. He was really here.

Still clutching the phone and having no idea how this was happening, I swallowed hard as I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Rider turned at the waist, and I ended up eye level with his chest. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to answer.”

My gaze flicked up, and a strangled sound escaped me. I reached out, gripping his arm and all but dragged him inside. He caught the door with his other hand, closing it behind us.

“Your face.” My grip tightened on his forearm. “What happened?”

His brows furrowed as he reached up, touching the skin around the inch-long gash above his left eyebrow. Blood had dried around the cut and a bluish-purple shade had already begun to spread out around it. “This? Oh, it’s nothing.”

I stared at him. “It doesn’t...look like nothing.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Looking around the foyer, he peeled my white-knuckled grip off his arm. Instead of dropping my hand, he threaded his fingers through mine. “I thought you’d ask how I figured out which one was your house. I’m pretty impressed with my craftiness.”

Yeah, I was curious about that, but he was going to end up with a matching scar above his left eyebrow now. “Rider, your forehead...”

He glanced down at me as he squeezed my hand, grinning. “You told me you lived in the Pointe, so I took the metro to the Center and walked the rest of the way. Wasn’t too hard to figure out.” With his other hand, he ran the tips of his fingers over the fake daisies in the vase placed on the entry table. “I just looked for your car. Lucky me, it was in the driveway. So maybe I’m not that crafty.”

Crafty or not, he was hurt and that made me feel sick. I started tugging him toward the living room.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, letting me pull him along.

My eyes widened. I’d totally forgotten I was dressed for bed and that the sleepwear showcased my sturdy body. “I was getting...ready for bed.”

He arched his brow and then winced. “What time is it? Seven?”

“Seven-thirty,” I murmured, guiding him out of the hall and into the living room.

Taking in the spacious room, his attention lingered on all the potted plants in front of the bay window, then moved over the entertainment center and the built-in bookshelves. Then he turned to me. His gaze dipped, taking a slow slide down the length of my body, and I felt my toes curl against the hardwood floors. A rush of heady warmth followed his gaze and the answering tight shiver did strange things to certain parts of me.

Our eyes locked.

The stare held that same level of intensity from the day before. The temperature in the room zipped up several degrees and my breath suddenly felt short. He shifted closer.

He was still holding my hand. “I probably shouldn’t have come here.”

“You shouldn’t?”

His head cocked to the side, and I saw then that the collar of his shirt was torn. My heart dropped, and he shook his head as he let go of my hand. I thought he might leave, so I stepped forward, practically closing the distance between us. “Sit.”

Rider looked down at me, his expression indecisive.

“Sit,” I repeated. “Please?”

He looked behind me, seemed to have shuddered, and then he moved a pillow to the side before he sat. “Now what?” he asked, staring up at me with familiar yet strange eyes.

“Stay here.” When he leaned back on the couch, shifting his attention back to the bookshelf, I hurried out of the living room.

In the downstairs bathroom, I grabbed the peroxide and a few cotton balls and didn’t let myself think too much about this or worry about Carl and Rosa. I knew if they came home early, I’d be in so much trouble it wouldn’t even be funny, especially after the conversation yesterday. And though Rider’s presence might be a match to kindling, I honestly didn’t know how they’d react if they came home and found any boy in the house. I’m sure that was another thing that never crossed their minds.

Or mine.

Rider was where I’d left him, and I exhaled softly as I skirted the coffee table. He looked at what I carried, and a half grin appeared. “I’m fine, Mouse. Seriously.”

I shrugged as I came toward him, getting between his knees and the coffee table. “What happened?”

“Just some...some trouble,” he said, rubbing his palm along his jaw. “It’s nothing I want you to worry about.”

Unscrewing the peroxide cap, I soaked a cotton ball and then placed the bottle on the table. The sharp scent went straight to my nose. “You...you always made everything sound like it’s not a big deal. You’re doing that now.”

His lips continued to curve on the right and the dimple appeared. Then he sighed and scooted forward, spreading his legs. His hands suddenly landed on my hips, and I almost dropped the cotton ball at the unexpected contact. My breath caught as he lowered me so I was sitting on the edge of the coffee table and he kept moving forward, the inside of his legs sliding against the outside of mine. The rough material of his jeans touching my bare skin sent a raw, drenching rush of sensation through my veins.